Where The Story Ends
by EdenEmilie
Summary: A series of one-shots set throughout THG trilogy. "If you get a chance, take it. If it changes your life, let it. Because in three words I could sum up everything I learned about life; it goes on."


Authors Note: There are_ soooo_ many moments in THG trilogy that I find myself distracted, thinking up entire storylines to go along with little unexplained moments throughout the books. This is my super noob-ish attempt to add a little extra _something _to the times that have always left me wondering . Enjoy ;D

Disclaimer: PFFT. Like any of us could even come close to being the awesomeness that is Suzanne Collins

_The Hunger Games – Pg 55- Right before paragraph 2_

"So tell me _Peeta_," Haymitch asks, sloshing his bottle of alcohol against the table, "How does it feel? To have the _honor_ of visiting our wonderful Capitol?" He spits each word out like its poison. Like it's a joke. "How do I _feel_?" I ask; already annoyed "I _feel_ like we need to start training as soon as we possibly can, and that includes you." This gives him pause, and he's so drunk that I can practically see to rusty cogs in his head fighting to turn. _Great._ The man could hardly form a coherent sentence, let alone make life or death decisions. "She's going to need all the help she can get when the time comes," I start, "And the last thing I need is our most valuable resource passed out drunk on the floor."

He takes a minute to process it, and takes another swig of wild turkey. "Who's she?" he asks slowly, trying to put the pieces together. Then the cogs lock into place. "Don't tell me, you love that girl don't you?"

A simple question. That was it, not a single name was mentioned. But immediately someone comes to mind.

Of course. Yes, of course. I had known from the beginning that it would always be her. It was strange really. She had never been in my vocabulary, until one day… she became the only word I knew. It had never really even been a question. Sure, there were other girls. Ones who I convinced myself were prettier, and funnier, and nicer, and by all means probably better people all together. Some I really were actually fond of.

But it never stuck.

I quickly dismissed the ones other boys stared longingly at; they were too plain. And I never really could think of the funny ones as more than friends; it's not like we had anything in common. They all seemed to blend and fade, gray to more gray, never really making an impact. And why not be honest, in the end all I ever did was compare them to her. She was quiet, honest, loyal, and brave. She was the best of us all in District 12, and everyone knew it. So- it may not have been an all consuming love right off the bat, but…

I fell fast... much faster than I had been expecting.

I couldn't say just how often I would find myself thinking about her. It wasn't an obsession, that wasn't the right word for it. But I had a connection with her- Katniss; who could damn near take on any man in the Seam, and who had eyes so big and clear that you could see your own reflection. Like how I would turn around without a reason I could think of and she would end up either passing by or standing nearby. I could pick her out of a crowd of over a hundred almost instantly sometimes. And I swear; once in a while I would find her staring too. For a fraction of a fraction of a second, I swear recognition would flicker in her eyes. And I would find myself daring to hope. That maybe she _did_ remember about what had happened all those years ago. About the pouring rain, and the bread, and about my pathetic attempt to ease her of some of the pain that had turned a once unflinching girl into the one who had sat hunched–drenched, filthy, and utterly defeated- against a dying apple tree behind my house. I wanted her to smile again. For her to sing again.

A week passed before I saw her - in the front yard of the school building- and it nearly took my breath away. Her eyes were once again full of life, and when she reached down the pick a bright yellow dandelion –her long hair cascading over her shoulders- it was as if she was shining as bright as the sun itself. I can remember being able to form only a single word in my head. _Always._

That was when I realized, she had become the most important thing in my world.

"Well," Haymitch grins with his teeth; like a vile alley cat that's just cornered its prey, "how about that." Immediately my face floods with heat, my ears start to burn, and my voice lodges itself in my throat. Choking me. This makes him grins even wider.

Fortunately Effie chooses right then to prance in with her bright pink dress and bright pink wig, smiling ear to ear as she announces another 'Big, big, big day!" How could someone so small be so loud?

Thankfully Haymitch is distracted and leans his chair onto its back to legs to sneer at her; his cheeks ruddy and red from the alcohol. "Well lucky us," He says, "Where would the lot of us be without you?"But it's so snarky and callous that I can't help but feel sorry for her- in her own way I'm sure she means well. But even Effie's perpetually optimistic outlook on life can't hide the utter revolution she feels toward him. "Well," she glares and smiles blandly, "Excuse me while I continue to try and compensate for your lack of enthusiasm and constant state of inebriation. Because unlike you, I would actually care to see one of these two children come home a victor after the games." And just like that she spins on her heels, grabs her coffee, and stomps off in the most ladylike way she can manage. I smile, but then stop. Reminding myself that I'm supposed to hate these people.

Across the room Katniss brushes past Effie and_ almost_ cracks a grin as she takes in the large spread of food on the table. My heart pounds against my ribs –nearly breaking them- and my eyes dart down to the table. _Great._ There went my resolve to be fearless.

But so what if Haymitch was right? It's not like it mattered; in less than a few weeks I'd be dead. No doubt about it. So what was I supposed to do? Stroll up and say "Hey Katniss, so let's say that 'theoretically,' I really like you, and 'theoretically,' even though it sounds moronically cliché and overused**,** I get the best feeling in the world when you talk to me, or even look in my direction, because I know even if just for a second, I crossed your mind. And hey why not, just for kicks, let's add that—all in theory of course— you may be one of the most amazing people I have ever met. Do you think that you could maybe (and in the most theoretical sense) ever feel the same way? By the way don't worry, I promise I won't slit your throat or try to skin you alive in the arena."

_Smooth._

No. I'd just have to continue to keep all my feelings to myself, and do everything in my power to keep her safe. Because even if by some miracle I did win and get to go home, it would never be the same. Not really. Because it would never _really_ be home without her.

Besides, "If you're not willing to risk it all, then you don't want it bad enough." Is what dad always said. And I already knew the answer. That it _was _worth it. That I _did _want it bad enough.

I'd be willing to bet my life on it.


End file.
